The Cat's Meow

THE CAT’S MEOW A short story By Jack Bush

The cat’s meow echoes into the night. It sat perched on a tree branch, high above the ground and had been there for some hours now, waiting for someone to pass. The street itself was deserted, other than a few parked cars. The houses at the other side of the road were in darkness and curtains drawn. Not many people were out at this time of the night, the cat was aware of that, but she was hoping that those that were, would come along some time soon. She was beginning to get hungry As she licked the back of her paw and preened herself, footsteps finally met her ears. They started off as distant echoes, but came nearer and nearer. The shadow of the person was cast over the road by the street-light before he came into view from behind a house. The man walked positively along the pavement with large strides, and the cat hoped he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to help her. The cat meowed. The man’s pace never slowed as he glanced around causally, looking to pin-point the feline. The cat meowed again. The man does a double-take as he sets eyes on her, and the cat takes its cue and stands on the branch, trying to walk towards him, as much as the length of the branch will allow. The man’s pace finally slows, as he stares at the cat. The cat let’s out one last meow, and the man stops. They stare at each other for long moments before he begins to walk to the base of the tree, his eyes never leaving the cat, who in turn, never loses the man from her gaze. ‘Hey puss, you stuck?’ says the man, staring up at it, with a slight look of confusion on his face. The cat only meows again, in answer to his question, and crouches down, as if about to jump off the branch and into his arms, but stops at the last moment, backing off to its original position of safety. The man looks up and down the street for inspiration, but sees nothing and no-one to help. ‘Oh man, this sucks, I haven’t climbed a tree in years!’ He takes off his jacket and lays it on the grass at the base of the tree, and then begins finding the best hand-holds in the bark for him to begin his climb. The cat eagerly watches him, as she can sense salvation. The man manages to grab a low hanging branch and pulls himself up the trunk until his feet find an indentation to steady himself. Finding it, he hugs the tree to get his breath back a little, and then proceeds to locate another groove to put a hand in, and gradually works his way up the tree until his head is level with the cat’s branch. As they look at each other, the cat takes a cautious step towards the man, stopping to try and smell the air, as if trying to smell the man himself. Smell for danger? ‘Come on, puss, I can’t hold on all night you know.’ The man tries to offer a hand to the cat, but his foot-hold slips and he lets out a yelp, as he nearly falls down the tree. The cat backs off even more, like a scared child back-tracking from peril. The man re-establishes his grip on the tree bark, and tries again. ‘Come on puss,’ he says through tight lips, as his tense body holds him steady.

Finally able to release a hand, he extends it toward the furry feline, rubbing his index finger and thumb together, like there’s some great prize between them. Tentatively, the cat begins to move towards him, nostrils sucking in the scent and pupils darting from the man’s eyes, to his rubbing digits. ‘Come on, puss,’ encourages the man. The cat’s nose touches the back of the man’s hand and gives it a little lick. ‘Good girl,’ says the man, as the cat walks slowly along the branch, following his arm. Softly stroking the cat, the man tries to lead it onto his shoulder, hoping it will have the sense to hold on, as he lowers himself back to the ground. It seems to read the man’s mind, as it does just that very thing. ‘Clever puss puss,’ mutters the man as he begins his descent. The claws of the cat extend to get that extra purchase on the man’s clothes, and he can feel them digging into his flesh. For a crazy moment, he can just imagine his girlfriend asking where he got those scratches on his back. ‘A cat did it’, just wasn’t going to cut it, and he lets out a chuckle at the stupid thoughts that sometimes run through people’s heads. As his foot touches down back onto the soft grass, he smiles to himself and his good deed is done. That’s when the first real stab of pain in his shoulder comes. ‘Ow,’ the man mutters, as he grabs the cat from his shoulder, feeling its claws pull at the cotton of his shirt as he tugs it away. Holding the cat by the scruff of the neck, and at arms length, they stare at each other. ‘Hey puss, I just saved your neck, so the least you could do, would be to leave me scar free, don’t you think?’ The man smirks at the cat and is about to lay it down, when it arcs its hind legs forward and sinks its claws into his forearm. The man jerks in pain and tries to drop the cat, but as soon as he lets go of the neck, it twisted its head round and bites a chunk of flesh from the palm of his hand; the blood momentarily blinding the feline. ‘Jesus Christ!’ shouts the man, as he shakes the cat off and it falls to the ground. Wiping the blood from its whiskers with the back of its paw, the cat looks up at the man. ‘You little shit,’ utters the man, as he bends down to pick up his jacket, ‘I should’ve left you stranded up there.’ The cat pounces on his face. The man screams as the claws dig into either side of his forehead, and the hind legs furrow skin from his neck. Grabbing the cat by the back of the neck again, the man tries to pull, but the cat is holding on so tight, only a handful of fur comes away. Again, the man screams, but his shouts are muffled in the warm belly of the cat. Then he feels the teeth gouging at his eyeball. Pure terror flashes through his body and begins tearing at the back of the cat, trying with all his strength to get it off. And that’s when he feels his eyeball burst. He can feel the optical fluid run down his cheek and the cat licking it off. The man grabs the front legs of the cat and pulls, ignoring the pain its claws are making, while they plough through the flesh on his temples, as the fresh night air comes back into his lung giving him the will to continue.

Finally freeing himself from the cat, he throws it back to the ground, and touches a hand to his ruined eye. Holding his fingers out in front of him, he sees the blood, mixed with the clear fluid, and roars in anger. The cat just looks up at him and seems to smile. The man aims a foot at it and kicks. The cat moves in lightening speed, and the man’s foot misses by inches. But the cat doesn’t. It lunges at the man’s foot and races up his leg, using its claw, once again, to speed the process, and also to inflict pain. The man is shocked backwards, as he flails his arms at the approaching feline, missing it with every swing. And then his feet get tangled in his jacket. As raw fear grabs him, he realises he’s going down. The ground meets his back with a thud, and blasts what little breath he has out of his lungs, and before he can gasp in another mouthful, the cat slashes at his throat, opening a gash just above his Adams Apple. Again, the man tries to fend off the household beast, but the cat grabs an offending thumb and bites down so hard, the man can feel the fingernail being wrenched off from the root. Dizziness begins to swim in his vision, as the cat swings a claw at his face, slicing his cheek down to the bone; the blood seeping through like ink through blotting paper. The man tries to roll over onto all fours and crawl out of danger, but the cat swipes it claw one last time, catching him at the side of the neck and severing the carotid artery with ease. The thin jet of blood shoots out of the wound like a power-hose, and the cat allows herself to be showered by it, lapping her tongue, trying to catch as much as possible in her mouth. As the blood-flow weakens, the cat continues to lick from the crimson soaked grass. The only other sound to be heard other than the flicking tongue, is the steady purr. The cat sits quietly, preening itself, as it washes away the last of the blood from its whiskers, then its ears prick up at the sound of a car. Turning around, it darts into the darkness, through the back garden of a house and out into the streets beyond. It isn’t long before she finds herself in a park. Silence is the only thing to surround her, and the peacefulness pleases her as she follows a path that children and families would partake in during the day. Passing a park bench, she admires the large tree that stands beside it. Without a seconds thought, she runs at the base, her claws doing all the work to get her up the trunk with ease. She finds herself a nice position in a V between two branches, and settles down. She knows it won’t be long before she’s hungry again. It seemed to be getting worse each night, but food wasn’t exactly in short supply. Even as the thought sparked a grin to spread over her whiskered cheeks, she hears the distant sound of footsteps approaching out of the gloom. The cat’s meow echoes into the night…..